


Team Sparkly Savior

by DeeDee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, F/M, Gen, M/M, Parody, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeeDee/pseuds/DeeDee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-6th year AU. Harry is rescued from the Dursleys with the Hogwarts Express! No, I'm not kidding! And he embarks on the adventure of a lifetime (read: rescue mission), where he will discover that one should never go on road trips with Weasleys. Or Slytherins. Or both. Friendship, embarassment and maybe romance. Crack, hopefully. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rightonthelimit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rightonthelimit/gifts).



**Team Sparkly Savior**

**AN** : This is my first Harry Potter multichapter story. I don’t know how many chapters this will be, yet, and I don’t know how the plot is going to evolve. I only have a few vague ideas so far, a few guidelines inspired solely by one picture: the Hogwarts Express van.

 

 

Therefore, I don’t know how often I will manage to update, and when/if I will finish it. But, if I do manage to write and update regularily (this experiment succeeds), I will get the guts to write other multi-chaptered fics and that’s great, right?

 

(I swear, it took me longer to choose a title than it took me to write this first chapter, and it’s still a lame title)

 

And, since this is a multi-chapter, I will say it from the start: the number of reviews I get will not influence in any way the speed of my updating. So, if you choose to review, it should be due to your spontaneous decision to share your enthusiasm with me, and only because of that. I will know how „popular” the story is by counting the favs and follows ;))

 

 **Disclaimer:** nope. Still don’t own it. But I do own my filthy, perverted imagination.

 

So here goes!

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**Chapter 1: The van**

 

 

The sun was up, and Harry raised a gloved hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead, crouched in an uncomfortable position over a bush in aunt Petunia’s garden.

Hard work, he thought, was the best cure for heartache. Focusing single-mindedly on that one task took his mind off the events of the previous year, and while Harry felt it was very disrespectful to not think about Sirius’s quick and premature death, he preferred to not deal with it both when he was awake and in his sleep.

 

Harry lifted his head after hearing a soft sound made by flapping wings, a sound he had come to recognize anywhere. Se squinted around, trying to see if any of the neighbors were outside, but thankfully the whole Privet Drive seemed deserted and quiet. Of course, no one mentally sane would be found outside under that scorching sun; the telly said this was going to be the hottest day of the summer, and Harry could actually see uncle Vernon’s sadistic grin when he announced that Harry would do garden work today.

 

The feel of Hedwig landing on his gloved hand stopped his reminiscence and he looked at his faithful friend as she extended a leg. Hedwig was carrying a letter.

He removed it and looked frantically around for a mouse or another creature of sorts to treat her, but he found none and as he looked up again, he discovered that Hedwig was gone. Blinking, Harry remembered that owls have very poor eyesight during daylight, and he assumed Hedwig would go make herself comfortable in his room now.

He removed his gloves and opened the letter.

 

‘ _Dear Harry_ ,’ it said.

 

‘ _I hope this letter finds you well. Ron and I have spent the past week at the Burrow, and we were kind of hoping that you would join us, but it seems Headmaster Dumbledore had other plans for you, and he wished for you to stay put – until now._

_Yesterday, a letter from him arrived here, and apparently a mysterious phenomenon is taking place at Hogwarts right now – his writing seemed very hurried and it looks unintelligible in certain places, but it seems this phenomenon, whatever it is, has isolated Hogwarts from the rest of the world – that is, no one magical comes in and no one goes out. He believed whatever blocked them will block the owls too, soon, so he chose to write a letter in a hurry and send his SOS rather than not be able to write at all. We suspect that has already happened, because we haven’t received any updates since._

_As such, we cannot travel there by Floo, and the Hogwarts Express is also out of bounds as it only works in certain days. Naturally, Mr. Weasley came up with a solution._

_Please be ready tomorrow morning at 8 AM sharp; we will come to pick you up and we will embark on a journey to Hogwarts!_

_Love,_

_Hermione and Ron._ ’

 

The letter, written in Hermione’s neat handwriting, left him wondering.

What could have the power to keep hostage some of the strongest and smartest professors he knew? Was it Voldemort? Did a Dark Lord even have this kind of power?

No matter, he thought. This sounded like a great adventure, and he just couldn’t wait to leave this place!

Grinning like a loon, Harry returned to the strenuous task of pulling weeds, this time with a lighter heart.

 

Once the evening came and the garden was perfectly watered, he returned inside the house, finding the three Dursleys sitting on the comfortable couch, in front of the TV.

“Aunt Petunia”, Harry spoke. “I finished my gardening chores”.

“Well then, go to your room, boy!” she spoke in a clipping tone, signaling with her hands for him to leave.

“I also received word that my kind will come and pick me up tomorrow.”

That earned him a reaction.

“And how will they come?” Petunia asked, glaring at him as Dudley made a noise of protest at his show being disturbed by their talking.

“Not by Floo, I think,” Harry muttered. He hoped that Hermione’s common sense would talk the Weasleys into using the front door.

Petunia pursed her lips into a fine line and said nothing. Harry took advantage of that to quickly climb the stairs into his room and shut the door behind him before the situation escalated into an argument. He didn’t want anything to ruin his good mood.

As he smiled at Hedwig perched on her cage eating her catch, he began to pull socks from under the bed and shove them into his trunk.

 

**~.~**

The next day, at 10 minutes to 8, Harry was already dressed, sitting on his trunk in the hallway just in front of the door as the Dursleys, happy to be rid of him sooner, acted like they couldn’t see him. Dudley was throwing him weird glances from time to time, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but then he closed it and returned to spooning mouthfuls of milk cereals in his mouth. Harry though his behavior was very weird, because Dudley was never too shy to say what he was thinking.

But he didn’t care much for it.

It was actually weird for Dudley to be up at 8 AM during the summer holidays anyway, so it really didn’t matter.

 

As the minutes passed, the Dursleys moved from the kitchen to the living room, and Harry kept staring at the door, when he heard a pair of heavy footsteps approach him.

“Why are you looking at the door like that?” Dudley asked with curiosity.

Harry stared at his cousin and behind him to see if any of the adult Dursleys were in hearing range.

“I’m trying to choose a spell to set it on fire,” he muttered, trying a Malfoy sneer (and failing).

Dudley blinked.

“You wouldn’t do that,” he spoke quietly.

“Wouldn’t I?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. “And how do you know that, Dudley? Don’t freaks do that? Destroy normal people’s homes and all?”

“You were never like the rest of them, Harry,” Dudley spoke thoughtfully as Harry’s mouth opened in shock. “You were always different. Different from us, and different from them. And that’s good.”

“Dudley? Have you eaten something weird?” Harry asked, looking at his cousin warily, because suck articulate, intelligent speech was as un-Dursleyish as magic.

“Will you be back next summer?” Dudley asked back, looking down at his feet, blatantly avoiding Harry’s searching eyes.

“I think so. Why?”

Dudley shrugged and went back inside, sitting on the couch between his parents.

Harry frowned but didn’t pursue him. Instead, he turned back at the door, flinching slightly when he heard the first firm knock.

He opened the door to admit a flustered-looking Hermione who jumped into his arms as soon as she saw him.

“Oh, Harry! It’s so good to see you!” she said, smiling happily. “I assume you already said your goodbyes, so come to the car! Mr. Weasley parked just a few blocks from here!”

Thinking about the Ford Anglia and wondering how Mr. Wesley was allowed to use it again, Harry went back inside with Hermione on his tow and announced the Dursleys that he was leaving. Vernon grunted, Petunia gave him a bored glance, but Dudley waved and wished him a safe trip. Harry frowned, thanked him and left, feeling his confusion return.

 

“What was that about, Harry?” the girl asked once they were began carrying his trunk across the perfect sidewalk of Privet Drive.

“I have no idea,” Harry honestly answered. He’s been saying all kind of weird things all summer, ending with this today. It’s like he’s trying to be nice, for some reason, but that’s plain weird for Dudley.”

“You think this might be connected to the Dementor attack last year?”

“Maybe. Don’t care,” Harry muttered.

“Turn left here. There it is!” Hermione exclaimed, smiling.

“Where?” Harry asked, looking around. “All I see parked here is this white van, I thought you came with the Ford?”

“No, of course not, mate. That car was confiscated ages ago!” said a voice to his right, and he recognized Ron’s freckled face. “This is Dad’s new car! Come check it out!”

Harry moved alongside the white van and gasped in surprise as he looked at what was written across the sliding door in black paint:

 

HOGWARTS EXPRESS

 

He chuckled as the door slide open and Mr. Weasley, in a red and orange checkered shirt and navy blue jeans – his best Muggle clothes, came out.

“Isn’t she a beauty, Harry?”

“Yes, but Hogwarts Express, sir?”

“You can call me Arthur, Harry. You have only one more year till you’re officially an adult. Well, this is what we will use to go to Hogwarts. My colleague, Perkins, and his daughter helped me with some charm work and I am very proud to present an even more amazing creation than the Ford!” he spoke with enthusiasm, caressing the painted letters with affection and pride.

 

The van didn’t look very big, but Harry had to admit that seven or eight people could fit in there just nicely, with some room in the back for the luggage. It wasn’t really necessary, since Mr. Weasley could obviously shrink their trucks, but it was nice to know.

 

“And of course, it is bigger on the inside!” Arthur spoke as Harry stepped in. Hermione climbed in after him, bypassing the boy and going to sit next to Ronald, who was grinning next to a table carrying a chess set.

 

Harry took a look around with awe, like a child in a candy store, blinking repeatedly, before he was tackled from behind by Hogwarts’ own pair of humanoid Bludgers.

“Bigger on the inside, Dad? “

“Sounds a lot-“

“Like Ronnikins’s stomach!” Fred finished.

“Hey, stop that!” Ron protested, blushing a dark shade of red.

The twins laughed and pulled Harry along to show him around. The van’s interior was something like a crossbreed between their tent at the Quiddich Cup and a Muggle house. There were several bedrooms, one for the girls and a few for the boys, a living room, a bathroom, a kitchen and a games room towards the back. Harry checked everything except for the girls’ room and nodded approvingly.

When they returned, Arthur was starting the car.

 

“Ready, boys and girls?”

“Sir, yes sir!” the twins mock saluted.

 


	2. Where do you go? My lovely.

**Chapter 2: **Where do you go? My lovely.****

 

**_Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Harry Potter, or the characters involved in the story._ **

* * *

 

 

 The car was now racing on the highway, as Mr. Weasley decided to make the atmosphere a little more cozy, so he placed a CD in the car’s CD player. He hit the play button, and No Mercy’s “Where do you go?” began to blast through the speakers. Mr. Weasley lowered the volume with an apologetic look, placing his hands back on the steering wheel.

“Muggle music?” Harry asked in Hermione’s general direction.

“If you’re asking whether I provided it, Harry, the answer is no,” Hermione answered with a short laugh. “Mr. Weasley actually began to understand Muggle technology much better this summer. And one day he asked me to accompany him to a music store. I was curious, and Ron offered to come with us, and it seems his father became a fan of pop music.”

“It’s okay,” Harry answered. “Actually, I’ve heard the song quite a few times on the radio, when I was doing kitchen work at the Dursleys.”

“Yes, well, Ron didn’t like it much,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Ron said, moving a horse across the chess board. “It’s just that it sounds, I don’t know, very carefree? Kind of shallow, like that cauldron full of love thing. And besides, they only seem to sing about love and their girlfriends. It’s ridiculous.”

Hermione blinked.

“What do you mean, ridiculous, Ronald?” she asked in disbelief, watching the boy checkmate her. “Is love ridiculous or something?”

Ron gulped.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well you certainly implied it!” Hermione began, and Harry sensed a long argument, so he decided to interfere.

“You said that you were going to tell me more about the situation at Hogwarts,” he reminded them calmly.

“That’s right!” Ron piped in quickly.

Hermione huffed, looking very much like she wanted to continue arguing with Ron, but finally, she looked at Harry and relented.

“As I wrote in my letter, professor Dumbledore only managed to send one letter, written in a hurry. He said that in the beginning, he noticed a smell, but at first he dismissed it, thinking that it could have been the house elves, trying out new recipes. However, the smell grew in intensity, and although the house elves and Filch did their best to spot the source, they failed to do so.”

“What did it smell like?” Harry asked.

“According to Dumbledore, it smelled like almonds, fresh bread and, weirdly enough, roses,” Hermione answered, frowning.

Harry’s head tilted to the side as he tried to imagine what kind of smell it could have been.

“And after the smell?”

“After that,” Ron continued with a small voice, as Hermione glared at him “they began to notice barriers. Translucent and shimmering, there were barriers in all the fireplaces connected to the Floo Network, so they decided to call some of the workers to study the phenomenon and fix things.”

“Needless to say,” Hermione interrupted “the Floo professionals failed to fix the problem, and they also failed to find the cause of the barriers. So the professors began to travel to the edge of the Hogwarts wards in order to Apparate wherever they needed to go.”

“And they stayed at Hogwarts?”

“Well, of course! Some left, like Professor Snape – he does a lot of come-and-go between Grimmauld Place and Voldemort’s headquarters, but professor Dumbledore temporarily delegated Kingsley Shacklebolt as his replacement for decisions concerning the Order, told him to keep the plans moving as they were and stayed at Hogwarts to study the problem.”

“And then what happened?” Harry asked.

“Some kind of purple vines appeared on the walls, like drawings,” Ron said.

“After that, the professors could no longer leave the castle. Nor could they leave through a window. Soon, they discovered that even the ghosts could not leave the castle. The vines started from the dungeons and crawled up. We assume Professor Dumbledore sent his letter from the Astronomy Tower. At this point, some professors had left on brooms – particularly Professor Sprout, she needed to take care of the greenhouses, so she preferred to camp outside, and Hagrid was in the Forbidden Forest at that time so it is assumed that he too, is trapped outside the castle right now. But Dumbledore, and a few other professors and the house elves are trapped there, and who knows when their food and water will run out!” Hermione said frantically. “At this point, we don’t know how much of Hogwarts functions normally – whether the phenomenon simply stopped when everyone was trapped inside, or if new developments took place. We are worried, so Kingsley authorized us to take this trip to Hogwarts.”

“Instead of Apparating there?” Harry inquired.

“We can no longer Apparate there,” Ron said biting his lips. “Dad already tried after we received the letter and he missed by quite a few miles. Whatever is there is messing with the Hogwarts grounds too. So we’re going there by car.”

“It sounds very serious,” Harry said. “I wonder why they didn’t leave though, when the situation became like this.”

“And surrender Hogwarts to this…phenomenon? No, I think Dumbledore loves the school too much to allow this to happen. And so do the other professors.”

“Or course,” Harry agreed. “But what do you think we can do? Shouldn’t the Ministry try to do something?”

“They have sent some curse breakers, Bill included,” Ron said snorting. “Bill Apparated to the Burrow two days ago saying that they had somehow ended up in Sahara, if you can imagine that. That thing must be very powerful.”

“So Mr. Weasley said we’d be trying portkeys. As soon as we get to Hogwarts, we’ll make portkeys to bring professionals at the site, and we’ll also be there to help,” Hermione said, proudly.

“Do you think Voldemort did this?”

“I don’t believe so. I don’t believe that Voldemort is powerful enough to mess up Hogwarts like this. Because if he was, we really wouldn’t stand a chance against him and I refuse to believe that,” Hermione answered with a shaky voice.

Harry nodded, looking just slightly relieved.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, as the song changed to La Bouche’s “Be my lover”. The upbeat song was accompanied from time to time by some booms coming from a room in the back – and that’s when Harry realized that the twins were no longer in the same room with them.

“Are Fred and George…experimenting again?”

“They are,” Hermione sighed. “They said that even if they left their shop in the care of Lee Jordan and Seamus Finnigan, this is not vacation, this is an opportunity for them to find inspiration and create new things.”

“Things they will test on us,” Ron muttered.

“Don’t be silly, Ronald, as if we’d let them!” Hermione said, a rare devious look in her eyes. “Right Harry?”

“Right!” Harry hurried to agree, wondering what mischief his friend was up to.

He sincerely hoped that whatever she had prepared for the twins, she would not come to enjoy the effects on that and turn into a prankster herself.

 

 

 

**~.~**

 

 

Harry could tell they were already in London by the time Mr. Weasley’s CD began to play Coolio’s “Gangsta Paradise”. In fact, Ron was taking a nap (how early had they waken up anyway?) and Hermione was writing an essay, probably for the vacation homework, when the car came to an abrupt halt. Harry looked out the window, surprised that Mr. Weasley would hit the brakes and stop the car so suddenly (he was a very careful, smooth driver), and he spotted a cloaked person next to Mr. Weasley’s window. The man then walked towards the van’s door and the door opened with a violent motion. Mr. Weasley tsked, an action reminding Harry of Mrs. Weasley, and he supposed Mr. Weasley must love his new van very much if he had such reactions to the appalling treatment to it.

The cloaked figure climbed in with some difficulty, and Harry saw that he was carrying a bag. Hermione didn’t seem to have noticed the disturbance, as she kept writing her essay. Harry, however, kept his eyes trained on that wizard, until the man sat on an armchair and lowered the hood. Harry gasped.

“Potter, do close your mouth,” the mad said. “You are quite uncouth.”

“Professor Snape!” Harry said with his best glare. “What are you doing here?”

At the mention of the man’s name, Hermione’s head rose from her assignment and Ron awoke with a start.

“Against my better judgment, I have decided to join you dunderheads in your trip to Hogwarts. The Dark Lord has somehow learned about the situation present, and he would like information on it. He ordered me to go there.”

“So it really wasn’t his doing,” Ron said, yawning.

“No, and it worries him. While he might rejoice the fact that Dumbledore is trapped, I suspect he cares about Hogwarts more than he lets on.”

“He does care about Hogwarts. It is, probably, the only place he has ever called his home,” Harry said quietly.

“Yes, well, spare us the melodramatics, Potter.” Snape drawled, arranging his cloak around the knees.

Harry glared again.

Snape raised a brow, challenging Harry.

The CD player changed songs again. It changed to Los Del Rio’s “Macarena” and Ron started to laugh.

“Mr. Weasley, would you care to enlighten me as to what is so funny?” Snape snapped, irritated.

Ron kept laughing silently to himself and Snape was about to make further enquiries when Mr. Weasley suddenly began to sing loudly the lyrics of the song.

“It is my Dad’s favorite song!” Ron said, laughing his head off.

 

Snape began to rub his temples, sighing as the song blasted on full volume in the Van from Hell, and Harry also began to sing at the chorus and make the hand movements of the famous dance, just to spite his professor. Snape watched him with a sour face. Harry smiled sweetly.

“That’s 50 points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter.” Snape commented once the song was over.

Hermione’s head snapped up from the assignment again.

“You can’t take points outside the school year, professor,” she said in lecture more.

“Mrs. Granger, I can assure you I can and I will take these points from Gryffindor.”

“And there are no school rules that say Harry can’t sing and dance to the Macarena,” Ron interjected.

“There will be. I will write them myself, if I must,” Snape muttered. “Why must I endure your company?”

“Do you prefer the Malfoys instead?” Harry asked.

“If only! At least I can get intelligent conversation,” Snape said as Mr. Weasley hit the brakes again.

 

Outside the window, they could see the unmistakable blonde hair of Draco Malfoy, who, for once, wasn’t accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle. Instead, he was accompanied by two grey ferrets, hanging in his side pockets, and he seemed quite miserable about that.

Ron groaned aloud.

“What, now we’re going to pick all the strays?”

Snape glared at the redhead, but he knew it was ultimately Mr. Weasley’s decision. Arthur shrugged and opened the door.

Draco looked ahead, seeming to fight the indecision, but finally curiosity got the better of him and he walked towards the van, wand by his side. He climbed into the van carefully, and once he recognized Severus Snape, he swaggered towards an armchair next to his.

The CD player began to blast “No Diggity” by BLACKstreet feat. Dr. Dre. 


End file.
